Monday, September 22, 2014

I have a Mindfulness
Practice. That is to say, I struggle daily (and with varying degrees of
success) to sit in stillness with my breath and to live each moment with
openness, awareness, loving-kindness, and equanimity – to cultivate what Zen Buddhists
refer to as the “beginner’s mind.” Volunteer work is a big part of this practice for me. Volunteering gives me a tangible way to offer
service to others, or seva. It’s also a great way to learn stuff. And to
re-learn stuff I thought I already knew.

Let me tell you a story.

Once upon a time I was
volunteering at a busy hospital, offering free massage to patients. I usually
only had 5-10 minutes to spend with each person. I had to reach around IV poles
and other equipment to make contact with my clients. Nurses who needed to check
vitals, or sweep my client away for a test or procedure frequently interrupted
the sessions. It was a hectic setting, with very little of the calm and privacy
one usually associates with massage. This is where I met “Norma.”

Norma was just beginning
treatment for cancer. A friend sat in the chair beside her. It was not unusual
in this setting for people to ask me about my work and myself.

As she leaned back to allow
me to massage her feet, Norma and her friend (a self-proclaimed “survivor”)
exchanged some basic pleasantries with me and then Norma’s friend began to ask
about and discuss the risks associated with receiving massage from someone who
is not specifically trained in Oncology Massage. You may already know, dear
reader, that this is a particular passion of mine and within minutes, I was
having an intense conversation with Friend about her history of lymphedema
and the challenges associated with managing it.

“Well…sure, I guess,” Friend
struggled to keep smiling. I kept my mouth shut and slowed the pace of my
massage. “But you don’t have to worry or be sad! You’re here now and everything
is going to be okay.”

“I don’t want to be here
now! Everything is not okay! I don’t
want any of this to be happening!”

I didn’t speak for the rest
of the massage. I poured calm and sweetness into my touch, but inwardly I was
raging.

A cancer diagnosis is
terrifying. A person who receives this diagnosis is plunged into a world of
uncertain outcomes, a world where the treatment can be as painful and scary as
the disease, a world where one’s own body can feel like an enemy.

I believe the most
significant benefit that massage can offer this person is comfort. I believe
that my greatest gift to this person is my ability to use touch to remind her
that her body can still be a source of joy. That she can still feel pleasure;
that her body is still a good place to be.

Instead of offering Norma
that gift, I’d allowed myself to be distracted. Like someone sitting in
meditation for the first time, my brain had wandered away and I'd let it go.
I’d been there, but I hadn’t been present. My lack of presence had made me
unaware. My lack of awareness had made me insensitive.

Chatting with another person
instead of focusing on my client?!

I’d made a terrible mistake…
worse! I’d made a beginner’s mistake!

I’d been mindless.

I spent a great deal of time
punishing myself. I reminded myself over and over that I’d hurt someone. I
imagined all the graceful ways I could have redirected or ended the
conversation with Friend. I crafted elaborate apologies at the same time that I
prayed our paths would never cross and I’d never have to see or speak to Norma
again.

Forgiveness does not forget, nor does it condone the
past. Forgiveness sees wisely. It willingly acknowledges what is unjust,
harmful, and wrong. It bravely recognizes the sufferings of the past, and
understands the conditions that brought them about. There is a strength to
forgiveness. When we forgive, we can also say, “Never again will I allow these
things to happen.”

I realized that this
experience had been more Oncology Massage training. At the same time I’d been
berating myself, I had also been focused completely and intently on my clients
in and out of the hospital. I was mindful of my words. I was newly aware. I
would not make the same mistake again.

I also realized I had
already seen her! Just that day I had massaged the hands and feet of the woman
I’d made cry 2 weeks earlier and I hadn’t
recognized her!

I can give you lots of
reasons I might not have recognized Norma. It was another very busy day. I
massaged lots of hands and feet. Almost everyone was wearing a hospital gown. She
was in a different room. She had a different friend with her.

But the truth is this: I
didn’t recognize her because when I walked up to her she beamed at me.

“Hi! I’d love a foot massage!” she’d said,
whipping off her socks, “Can you do my hands today too?” She had nudged her
friend and said, “This is the best thing! It feels sooo good!”

“Finding a way to extend forgiveness to ourselves is
one of our most essential tasks...we can hold the pain we have caused in
compassion. Without such mercy, we will live our own life in exile.” – Jack Kornfield

I didn’t recognize Norma
because I was looking for someone who was still wounded by my thoughtlessness,
someone who hadn’t forgiven me. Turns out, I was the only one there who fit
that description.

Thursday, September 4, 2014

I discovered Heart Strides through the magic six-degrees-of-separation machine that is Facebook. This wonderful organization gives running shoes (via donations) to mothers of children with chronic illness or special needs.

According to Denise, the founder of (and powerhouse behind) Heart Strides, "This simple gift of new shoes will be a starting point for many Moms,
taking new and first steps to better health. For others, these shoes
will help them to keep moving, to participate in events that are near
and dear to their hearts."

I love this! I love this idea and I love the Heart Strides community -- women offering each other support and guidance, encouraging one another to care for themselves with the same intensity that they care for their children.

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About Me

Kerry has worked as a massage therapist since 2005. She received her initial massage training at the Palmer Institute of Massage and Bodywork. She has advanced training in Oncology, Prenatal, and Thai Massage.
Kerry is a member of ABMP, Oncology Massage Alliance, National Lymphedema Network, and is a preferred provider of the Society for Oncology Massage.
In addition to practicing massage, Kerry has been a massage educator since 2005. She has taught courses in Anatomy, Physiology, Pathology, Research, Clinical Reasoning, Prenatal Massage, and massage for people in treatment for or with a history of cancer.
Since 2000, Kerry has also worked as a yoga instructor, specializing in Vinyasa, Prenatal, and Chair Yoga. She holds 200 & 500-hour yoga teacher certifications and is recognized by the Yoga Alliance as an Experienced Registered Yoga Teacher.